


Little Black Cat

by aconfederacyofscript



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconfederacyofscript/pseuds/aconfederacyofscript
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night Skye comes home to a cute little black cat running into her house and out of the snowy cold. She takes care of the cat over night, then sets out to finding the owner the next day, who happens to be Jemma. Unfortunately the little kitty thinks it’s necessary to sneak out to Skye’s place more than once, forcing the 2 woman to meet again & again until Skye finally works up the nerve to ask Jem out. The kitty seems to stop sneaking out once Skye starts coming over more often.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Black Cat

Skye’s hands are so cold that she can barely hold her keys. Her teeth clatter and a layer of fresh fluffy snow covers her beanie, her breath forming clouds in the chilly air. Her keys rattle in her hand when she jumps up and down, trying to stay warm, before fumbling to actually open the door.

She’s about to step inside when a black shadow rushes past her with a soft sound and the tinkling of a bell.

“Hey!” Skye tries, but it’s fruitless, she realises when the little creature shakes its fur and graciously jumps onto her counter top where it sits down. 

She closes the door behind her then, realising it’s far too cold for the little cat to be outside right now when the snow reaches up halfway her ankles. 

Quickly she turns on the radiator and strips off her coat, hanging it to dry with her soaked gloves and Bordeaux coloured beanie.

“Hello little cat. Who do you belong to, huh?” She mumbles and stretches out her hand to let it sniff it. It nudges its head against her fingertips and she runs her fingers through the cold fur, scratching behind his ear. There’s no collar.

“Okay, let’s see if I can dry you off a little.” 

Skye manages to rub most of the snow out of the cat’s fur and finds some leftover cat food from when she was cat-sitting Funk, her friend Tripp’s pet. 

The cat, that she’s named Fizz for the time being, spends the rest of the evening curled up on her chest where it’s fast asleep until Skye as well has to go to bed.

“Sure, dipshit. You can stay tonight but tomorrow we’re going to get you home, alright?” she whispers when she scoops up the heap of meowing fur, and moves them upstairs where Fizz sleeps curled up on the pillow.

_____

A soft meowing wakes the computer genius the next morning and something wet presses into her cheek. Skye remembers then: the cat. She flips through some channels before she decides it’s high time to get the little one home to its rightful owner, instead of having it keep her company on a snowy afternoon. She can’t deny enjoying having it around, though. Maybe a piece of her secretly hopes she won’t track down the owner, while she’s fully aware that she can track down about anyone.

“Okay, first you gotta sit still here so I can take a photo of you, Fizz. Yes, very good. Look pretty. Say cheese,” Skye grins when she holds out her iPhone, but before she can snap the picture, he moves.

“You know this is only going to take longer if you don’t sit still. You know that right.” She repositions Fizz to sit on her desk again and this time it works.

She posts the message to Facebook and twitter, hacking in some systems to make it go viral quickly and then prints the same message on a few sheets of paper. 

“You’re gonna stay here. And you better not break anything.” Skye pats its little head and makes sure to leave some food while she musters up the courage to face the snow again and put up some flyers. 

_____

It’s a matter of waiting then, and Skye knows that, but she didn’t realise that two hours could ever pass so slowly.

She nearly falls of the couch and startles Fizz when her phone rings.

“Hello?” 

“Hello, I’m looking for Skye?” A woman’s voice sounds from the other end of the line and Skye is taken aback by the crisp accent for a split second. 

“Yeah, that’s me! How can I help?” 

“I saw your flyer on the street - I think you might have found my cat, Bruce?” Concern lines her voice and she can just picture the woman fidgeting with something that is lying around.

“Could be. Why don’t you come over and bring his passport? I wouldn’t want to just give him to some random stranger. If that sounds okay? He’s totally fine, don’t worry about that. I took good care of him last night.” 

“Yes, thank you. I could just come over now if you have time?”

Skye cites her address and feels strangely nervous once she’s hung up. What if the woman brings a tall, bulky boyfriend to take the cat from her? What if she’s not as nice as she sounded on the phone? It probably is a woman somewhere in her thirties that lost her cat, so she doesn’t really know how to handle herself when the doorbell rings. Quickly she jumps up and sock-skates to the front door.

She’s astonished. Blown off her socks. In front of her stands the woman that belongs to the voice, obviously. Her hands are tucked into the pockets of her thick coat; she wears snow boots with faux-fur lining and a beanie under her hood. It’s the most adorable thing, especially with the colourful scarf.

“Hi…” she manages to utter when she gathers her bearings and runs a hand through her hair.

All her assumptions about the woman were wrong.

“Hello, Skye,” she says with a wide grin. Her breath clouds in the air and her cheeks are rosy from the cold. She waves.

“Do you… want to come in?”

“Please. You have a lovely house.”

She lets Jemma in and rolls her eyes at herself. She shouldn’t have this instant reaction of oh my god she is beautiful and sweet Jesus who is this adorable woman. But she has, and she’s in no position to deny it to herself. Especially when her heart stammers in her chest when Simmons smiles at her.

“Thank you so much for taking care of him. There is so much snow outside, and he’s so little. And oh dear is he asleep like that?”

Skye raises an eyebrow while turning around to follow her line of sight and nods with a laugh. The furry creature is splayed out on the countertop again, its head resting on its paws.   
“Oh yeah… He tends to do that. Bruce, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, after the scientist,” Jemma says and a blush creeps to her cheeks, “You know, Bruce Banner.”

“I’ve heard the name.”

Skye somehow ends up drinking coffee in her kitchen with the woman before checking through the passport and making sure the little cat actually wants to go with her. Bruce does, however, and Jemma simply scoops him up after wrapping herself up in her outdoor wear again. Skye smiles, scratching the ball of fur behind his ear before tucking a strand of hair behind Jemma’s ear. 

“I’ll eh… I’ll see you around, Simmons,” Skye smiles and Jemma nods.

“Yes, perhaps. Okay. Thank you again, Skye. For Bruce, and the coffee.”

“Don’t mention it.” Skye shrugs with one shoulder and brushes past her to open up the front door for her after which she disappears into the cold afternoon.

_____

“You’re here again?” Skye huffs when she gets home and the black fluffball sits on her steps again, licking its paws. “Like seriously that is the third time this week, idiot.”

Ever since the black cat stayed with her that night it had the strange urge to keep showing up at Skye’s house at random times. Sometimes it was already there when she got off work, like this, or it would jump up her windowsill while she was watching tv and just wait for her to notice him. And that was only last week, causing her to see Jemma at least four times when she came to pick Bruce up. Each time Jemma stuck around for coffee, as if it was becoming routine. The fourth time she stayed over for dinner and a movie. It was easy, too easy almost, as if Bruce tried to bring them together. Their shoulders pressed together, sharing ice-cream from one tub, drinking a beer. It was as if they had been doing this for months, instead of days. Serendipity, some people would call it. Skye just calls it remarkable. 

It started to look like this week wouldn’t be any different. 

The cat just looks up at her as if she’s speaking Chinese, which could well be true. Before she can even pull out her phone to call Jemma to tell her that Bruce once again landed on her doorstep, there’s a soft cough behind her.

“Hello, Skye.”

She spins around and feels her feet slip away from under her. She must have hit a slab of ice and mentally curses her for not shovelling her front yard. She expects to hit something cold, something fluffy and something icy, but nothing happens. Two solid arms are wrapped around her, supporting her entire weight.

“Jem… Hi.” 

“Hi…”

Skye feels Jemma’s warm breath on her face and she smiles lopsidedly. She can count every freckle that butterflies over her nose and every crease of her nose scrunch. 

“I eh… Was just going to call you, but it seems you beat me to it. Thanks for catching me. I saw my life flash before me for a second.”

Jemma huffs and rolls her eyes before helping Skye to get back on her feet again. “Anytime.”

“So your cat is here again,” Skye says and pushes her bangs from her face. Snow starts to fall again and sticks to Jemma’s eyelashes.

“Yes. It is almost as if it wants us to meet again and again.”

“It probably is just because I’m a good cuddler,” Skye deadpans and grins when Jemma’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Sure,” Jemma laughs and shrugs, “I’m sorry he keeps ending up here, though. It must be unfortunate for you, too.”

“It’s fine, really. I like having you around. I mean him. Having him around.” Skye clears her throat when heat rushes to her face and she ducks her face in her shawl, hoping Jemma doesn’t notice. “I’m sorry… I just… Jemma?”

“Skye?”

“Will you go out on a date with me? Like we can go ice-skating and drink hot chocolate.”

“You just nearly slipped in your front yard and you want to go ice-skating with me?”

Skye just shrugs and nods. “I guess.”

“I’d love that, really. How’s Saturday?”

Skye can’t help but smile from ear to ear. “Saturday is perfect.”

“Alright then.”

“Good.”

“I will take that little monster home now.”

“And I will shovel my front yard to prevent further accidents.” Skye nods solidly and Jemma laughs.

“Good.”

“Alright then.”

“I’ll see you Saturday.”

“Bye, Jem.”

“Bye, Skye,” Jemma smiles and leans in to press a kiss to Skye’s cheek. It sends a pleasant shiver down her spine and she feels like she’s falling all over again, while in fact she just stands there with a stupid grin on her face. She waves until Jemma is out of sight and sighs before pressing her hands to her cheeks and moving back inside. She has an ice-skating date. Oh god. It’s both perfect and petrifying.


End file.
